


Bid Your Farewell

by chobits27



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Hugs, M/M, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 13:20:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chobits27/pseuds/chobits27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in a few years forward. Sebastian was married to Hanna, his girlfriend for years. Tragically, a year after, they got into a horrible accident that took Hanna away. Since that day, in such misery, Sebastian has promised himself not to fall in love with anyone, ever again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bid Your Farewell

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for any grammatical mistakes. Please do mind it, any comments will be very much appreciated. Thanks.

Seb wakes up, snaps his eyes wide open. His body is trembling and soaking with his own sweat. He doesn’t get up hastily like he used to in the earlier days when he starts having these nightmares; 

_standing alone in such dark surroundings,_

_snow starts falling down heavily,_

_he's seeing Hanna in a far,_

_trying to run to her, reaching out to her,_

_but no matter how hard he forces his feet to move, they just can’t move,_

_as though they weigh a hundred tons under the snow,_

_then Hanna turns her back and just disappears._

 

Seb just lies there on his cold bed—that’s now damp with his own sweat. Staring up blankly at the dark ceiling. His chest is raising up and down, breathing heavily as if the air feels thick around him, and his heart is hammering achingly against his chest.

Sometimes he finds himself deliriously calling Hanna’s name as he wakes up. Sometimes he’s awake in tears. It frustrates him. But he can’t do anything about it. Doesn’t want to do anything about it. Because it’s the only way he can see her, meet her, though he cannot touch her—that’s why it’s a nightmare.

He glances at the clock on the nightstand next to his bed. The numbers, glowing in red fluorescent lights, indicates that it’s only 3:43. And he can’t go back to sleep because his minds wander off to many places.

He had a fight with his current trainer, Julian, last night. Heikki, his previous trainer, resigned after the fourth year of working together. It was inevitable, though. Heikki had to sign off because there was a due date for his contract and he decided to concentrate on his own newly fitness centre business, back in Finland.

Julian has only been working for a year when Sebastian got into an accident with his wife, Hanna, during a winter break. Sebastian miraculously survived but injured his left arm, ankle, and collarbone pretty bad, thus he has to retire this entire season for recovery. And it’s been almost four months since then.

Sebastian used to always listen to Julian—to his instructions. Because as a matter of fact, Julian is a good trainer. Almost as good as Heikki. But since after the accident, Seb has never really listened to him anymore. And almost everyone, actually.

Julian knew Seb can be a brat sometimes, but he never skipped his training before. Never. No matter how bad his mood was. Even when he was still having a little jet lag from an hourly flight, he was extremely strict and discipline to his own training and diet.

And Julian knew that it might be Sebastian’s previous trainer’s influence.

And he thanked him for that.

But now Seb is more like a flipped coin. You see the same physical person but different inside. It’s like he has changed 180 degrees. He doesn’t seem to care about _almost_ anything, he skips his training despite the fact that he has to recover. Or when he does it, he doesn’t do it right.

Most of the time he will just lock himself in his bedroom, or leaves the house early in the morning, without even mind taking his car, and get back when it’s already dark. And Julian doesn’t even know where he was going, because Seb won’t tell anything.

And it was until last night. Julian was on his limit. He couldn’t go through with this anymore—ran out of patience. He sat on Sebastian’s living room, waiting for him to come back from his goddamn wandering. And when Seb finally came back, Julian just snapped out right away.

“Where were you, Seb? Where have you been?” He gritted out, trying not to raise his voice.

But Sebastian didn’t answer. He just walked straight through Julian to the kitchen, took a glass of water, and drank.

Julian felt a dark fury burning inside him, but still managed not to let it explode. He inhaled deeply then sighed sharply.

“I've tried to be professional with you, Seb. But fuck you, I quit,” he said with the driest expression.

Sebastian knew this would happen, so he wasn't surprised. He just didn’t expect it took longer for Julian to fed up with him than he has assumed.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at Julian when he turned and walked away. But after a few steps, Julian stopped, remembered something he always wanted to say to Sebastian.

“You know, Seb? You don’t need a bloody trainer or physiotherapist,” his voice was bitter with anger—and a little taunting, “all you need is a fucking psychiatrist.”

And just like that, Julian left without even saying a proper goodbye. Seb heard a door slammed hard a moment after.

 

***

 

Two days later. 

Seb’s got a phone call. It’s Britta. He let it be a missed call, but it’s ringing again after a few seconds. At last, he picks up on the sixth ring.

“Seb, where are you?” the voice from the other side sounds warm and full of concern.

“Home,” he replies, half murmurs.

He doesn’t even know if this place can still be considered as _home_. Because home is where you feel safe, serene, and peaceful. 

And it’s far from what Seb is feeling right now. 

He feels his heart gnawingly squeezed just thinking about that.

“I’m coming in a couple hours, okay, Seb?” Britta says, “don’t go anywhere.” She adds quickly.

Sebastian stays quiet.

“See you, Sebastian,”

“Yeah, sure..”

 

***

 

After two and a half hours, the doorbell’s ringing. Seb opens the door, and as expected, it’s Britta. Appearing in front of him with some kind of bright expressions. As if the sun replaces her face.

“Hey, how are you doing?” She gives him a hug.

“Not much,” Sebastian hugs her back with one hand. That is when he realizes that Britta isn’t alone. She’s with someone else, a few feet away behind her.

A man with a giant figure, standing solitary on the gravel like a garden statue. The midday sun rays showering his pale skin and golden hair—makes it shine. He observes the surroundings, smiling vaguely at some spot as he rewinds some memories in his mind. Then he raises his hand to the man on the front door, waving awkwardly short when he realizes his presence has been spotted.

“What’s he doing here?” is the first thing that comes out of Seb’s mouth. He’s surprised, of course. But his face betrays nothing.

 

***

 

“Again,” Seb mutters, “why are you here?” he asks for the second time as if he has misheard something. They’re in the living room now.

“ I’m here to help you recover, Sebastian,” Heikki replies shortly.

“I didn’t ask for your favor,”

“I know,”

“I won’t pay you,”

“I don’t want your money,”

“What if I don’t want to recover?”

There’s a long pause. And as seconds pass by, the silence grows painfully.

“What if I don’t want to heal?” Sebastian says, his voice is hoarse, yet the question sounds firm.

“Seb—” Britta pleads. But Seb cuts her off.

“Go home, Heikki,” he says flatly, “you’re wasting your time.”

Then he gets up from his seat, about to leave them but Heikki grips his wrist right away.

“Stop it, Sebastian,” he grits out, tightens his grip, “stop being stupid.”

“And you, stop acting like you know everything!”

“I know you—“

“You _knew_ me. You weren’t there, Heikki! You didn’t see her! You know _nothing_! Nothing!” Seb exclaims. His eyes bear into Heikki’s.

Heikki sees nothing but anger, sadness, despair, and guilt in Seb’s eyes. There’s an unshed tear.

The next second, he can’t help himself but to yank Seb into his body. Hugs him tightly, as though he wants to pervade _this_ Sebastian into him, so he will only see Sebastian he used to see.

“I know you, Sebastian,” he says hoarsely, “I know you,” 

Now his voice sounds more like a denial to what he’s seeing. Doesn't want to believe what he's seeing.

“You weren’t there... Heikki….” Seb falters. Buries his face into Heikki’s neck.

His body’s trembling in Heikki’s arms—falling apart. For a moment, just for a moment, Heikki can feel the wall that Seb has built starts caving in.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he sounds exasperated as he nuzzles Seb’s hair, revelling in the scent he always knows—missing it.

“But I’m here now,” he says into Seb’s ear, almost whispers, “Let me help you, Sebastian,” 

As though startled, Seb’s body goes rigid. He remembers what he has said previously—what he always says to himself, to everybody.

“No,” he pushes Heikki off of him, forcefully. “No.”

Heikki won’t let him. He grabs Seb’s left arm, exactly where the incompletely-healed injury is, that automatically makes Seb groans loudly. 

He yanks his own hand away from Seb’s.

“See?” Seb hisses, “All you can do is hurt me..” 

“Just leave me alone, Heikki.” He glares at the Finn before leaving.

Slams the door shut when he reaches his room.

 

Britta, who can only watch the previous scene in front of her eyes, now standing next to Heikki, squeezes his shoulder.

She thought she will see desperation in his eyes. But no, she sees something else.

“I know he’s still there. I know I can bring him back.” Heikki says firmly.

And from that moment on, Britta knows she can have faith in this guy.

She knows she was right to let this guy come back.

***


End file.
